Irksome, Meddlesome, Mr Green
by FableWhite
Summary: Evie finds herself feeling odd after the Rooks' first victory over the Blighters, and it has nothing to do with Henry Green. Nope. Nothing at all. Henry Green/Evie Frye


**Irksome, Meddlesome, Mr. Green**

Summary: Evie finds herself feeling odd after the Rooks' first victory over the Blighters, and it has nothing to do with Henry Green. Nope. Nothing at all.

Author's note: I have been looking for inspiration to write a smut for this pairing for a while and I found it so yay! I have written smut before, but I am a little rusty so bear with me.

The bar was teeming with life, Men and women singing their jolly songs in their drunken stupor, laughing and sloshing booze wherever they stepped. Jacob was in the midst of it all, his tumbler held high and his cheeks a rosy red as he toasted his Rooks with pride and jovial glee. They had succeeded in taking over their first gang stronghold from the Blighters, their leader Bloody Nora living up to her namesake as she bled out onto the streets of London.

Evie would have gladly joined in on their fun, drinking up a storm and proving once and for all that she could hold her liquor far better than her boastful brother, but she found herself unable, too introspective at the moment to halt all thought as her brain cells grew hazy with alcohol. She could not let these inquiries in her brain to melt away like frost on glass, she wanted to ponder on them a bit more lest she forget.

" You did well today, Ms. Frye." He had said, his strong yet kind voice becoming the loudest in her subconscious.

He had put his calloused fingers on her shoulder, their warmth penetrating through the leather of her coat.

"Once again I find your passion inspiring. " He gave her a sincere smile, squeezing just a little in reassurance of the truth his words held. This was of course highly unnecessary, he could tell her monkeys ruled the world and she would take it as gospel.

"Your father would be so proud of the work you've done. "

His gaze had lingered too long, his hands remaining where they were. She had not wavered in her confidence, not shying away from his compliment like a blushing child, But it was a worthless attempt, for the moment ended and it was not salvageable. The cool London air felt like ice against the impressions of where scolding fingers used to be.

He had complimented her fiercely, not by her looks or by her grace as a woman, but as an equal on the long and arduous road of the assassins. He made her feel stronger than she felt, more empowered than she already was, and that was indeed quite a skill he possessed. It was dangerous.

She had not seen him since their victory, scanning the masses crowding the bar and finding nothing but tricks of the light and disappointment. Such a strange day indeed. Why was she investing so much time in this? The man was nothing more than a valuable asset for their cause. _Nothing_ more. It was improper for her to behave like some uneducated floozy that hung around the slums.

Jacob waddled over to her in that instant, his cup half-full and a smile swelling his cheeks. Evie rolled her eyes and pulled out the chair beside her at the table for him. He gracelessly dropped himself onto the worn wood, laughing all the way and appearing like the boundless ball of energy he was, unable to remain still even for a moment.

"There you are dear sister! I was wonderin' where you'd run off to!" He grabbed her roughly by the shoulder, the one Henry's hand had previously been on.

" I am thoroughly surprised you even noticed. You were always bad at holding your liquor." She scoffed, keeping an eye trained on the entrance to the pub.

The brawler wagged a finger at her, his grin turning mischievous. "Well, as I remember it, it was _I_ who outlasted the lads back home on our eighteenth birthday, you included, sissy."

She raised a brow at his statement. "Oh really? as I recall, by the end of the night you laid sprawled out on the floor of the barn with barely a wink of consciousness in you, and _I_ was the one who outdrank everyone. Your snores gave the horses a horrible fright, might I add."

The twins laughed in unison, basking in the joyful atmosphere and reminders of the long past, in a time where the simple countryside was all they had known and not the mean beast that embodied London. When they let the giggles subside, they turned their attention to the sights in front of them, The precarious attitude and frivolous behaviours of their new family, a ragtag team of misfits, tossers, and downright philistines, all brought together under one flag and one name.

"D'you think dad would have been proud?" Jacob asked after a long while.

Evie didn't answer, for she honestly didn't have the slightest clue. Recognizing he wouldn't get a response out of her, he changed the subject, swirling the alcohol around in his cup. "Haven't seen Greenie around here yet."

She perked up at the mention of her brother's infernal nickname for Henry, something that did not escape his attention. "No. I suppose this type of event is one he would find...unnecessary." Evie responded, trying not to sound too deflated by the truth of it.

Jacob eyed her suspiciously, "...I suppose so."

The mood was stifling between them now, the heavy musk of dancing bodies and a cacophony of sounds doing little to quell the awkward silence between them. Did Jacob realize his jokes and jeers at Evie might have the slightest bit of truth to them? The elder twin wasn't even sure about her feelings herself, how deep they were for a man she knew only for a small fraction of her life.

"Evie…" Jacob was the first to break it.

"I think I am going to head upstairs to one of the rooms. Apparently, I am a bit more exhausted than I thought I was." She lied.

The brawler furrowed his brows, hazel eyes rimmed in red turning inquisitive. "Alright. I'll get you when it's time to go."

She smiled but it didn't reach her eyes, and she scurried off to the stairwell where she would hide away from her brother and all other questioning souls for the night.

The top floor was far quieter than the floor below it, the closed-off walls giving the long narrow hallway it was comprised out of a gloomy aura. She entered a random room towards the middle of the hallway and was glad to find that it was unoccupied.

It was small, sparsely furnished and just a few degrees cooler than the room downstairs. The wallpaper was old, and curling in a few areas but was once a pattern the shade of robin's eggs. A lone candle burned on the nightstand, its wick just at the end of its lifespan. The bed was pushed up against the wall, underneath a window that was boarded shut from the sheets were faded and appeared rough with use. It was neither good nor bad, which meant it had to do.

She unbuttoned her coat and cape, lying the worn items over the back of a chair in the corner. Her belts came next, holding her blouse and a few emergency weapons in place. Her boots were toe'd off and left underneath the chair, the leather flopping over without a leg to hold its form. Her blouse was stiff with sweat and so it joined the rest, leaving her in only her linen undershirt and trousers. The removal of the extra layers freed up her skin, oxygen refreshing her cells and awakening her mind, all the extra pounds of weight relieving the strain in her muscles.

She pulled back the sheets quickly, coughing as a cloud of dust was released into the air, soft particles tickling her nostrils and entering the delicate tubes of her esophagus. She cleared the offending particles away with a wave of her hand, and found herself a little less-inclined to climb into a bed that might be infested with things far worse than dust. Oh well, she would have to suffer the consequences later if it ever came to that.

In the silence of the room, the thoughts that had plagued her earlier began returning to the vacant spaces of her mind previously taken up by her own self-punishment and a fear of what Jacob might say. Henry was there in an instant, as he was on most nights, far more than she'd ever care to admit.

She laid on top of the sheets, cover pushed to the end of the bed for a pleasant heat began to crawl its way up her body. Her fingers twitched where they rested on her stomach, wanting to reach out to what wasn't there, touch the images that flickered behind her eyelids and pulled at her heartstrings uncomfortably.

" _You did well today, Ms. Frye."_ The phantom Henry spoke, the words heavy upon her ears.

It was the same sound, intonation and tone as he had said it before, but the scene was different. Her hands were firmly in his grasp, his strong grip keeping her in place. His breath was searing against her neck, the soft hairs standing static with the formation of goose flesh.

" _Once again I find your passion...Inspiring"_ He pulled her closer still, plump lips almost upon her own. The dark amber of his irises filled with a different emotion she swore she saw glimpses of throughout their interactions, except now there were no restraints, not here where manners, society, Assassins and Templars did not exist.

Evie couldn't help but groan at the fantasies being generated in her head, her fingers wandering up to her chest. Teeth worried at her lip, attempting to hold back the little sounds she wanted so desperately to let free.

The phantom Henry's hands shifted upwards to the sides of her breasts, thumb massaging its way precariously towards the middle. He had backed her into a wall that was not there before, his knee pushing its way through her thighs, one hand trapping her wrists while the other remained on her breast, pushing in on the nipple and teasing it to a point.

Evie found herself unable to stop her hand from making its way down, slowly caressing the top of her trousers. She remembered hearing whispered conversations of women in the countryside, speaking in hushed tones as they talked about the dirty things they did that they would never confess to in church. She had always been curious, but never felt a need to commit such an act. No one had been anyone interesting enough back home to captivate her attention or invoke such dull, single-minded creatures that were sons of her father's friends were absolute bores that could never hold their own against her in any battle of wit or might. Perhaps that's why they were always drawn to Jacob, his reckless abandon and lack of appreciation for any semblance of knowledge was apparently attractive in ways Evie could not comprehend.

But Henry…

Henry was in a bracket of his own. The man has seen and learned things Evie could only dream of, she always listened intently when he shared some of his wistful tales with her. He fought like he lived, quietly, but infinitely more dangerous. His hands moved with the sureness and silence of death, his strikes calculated and practiced works of art. It took her breath away just to watch him in action. He had the manners of a gentlemen and the temperament of a monk, but his wrath knew no bounds once it was unleashed. She remembered quite clearly what had transpired after Jacob lost a very important lead on a valuable piece of intel. It had nearly shut him up for a week after it had happened.

And the fact that he was a very attractive man did not hurt either.

In her mind, the phantom had began a slow, continuous motion with his knee, rubbing circles into her heated flesh and applying a pressure that hurt wondrously.

Working through her own guilt and ignoring how ridiculous she felt, Evie untied the strings of her trousers, allowing access to her underwear. Henry was now doing the same thing against the wall, warm finger brushing against more and more of her exposed skin.

Throwing caution to the wind, Evie slid her slender digits past the cotton of her panties and prodded at her heated folds. She gasped, as the Ghost of London's thicker, darker fingers roughly circled the most sensitive nerves with a practiced ease. She could imagine just how deep they could reach, how his eyes would watch her contort in pleasure.

She squirmed on the bed, sliding a finger into herself, her other hand going up to cover her lips.

With a sincere yet mischievous smile, Henry caressed her face, fingertips feather light upon her flushed cheeks.

" _I am so proud of you."_

His lips inched closer towards hers, her fingers moved faster within her as she neared her first orgasm. It was so close, just barely out of reach. She let out a high pitched squeal, so indecent yet so entirely satisfying. Just a few more thrusts and then…

The door to her room swung open with a ferocity that matched a Bengal tiger, a word also appropriate to describe the demeanor of the man on the other side.

Evie's lightening reaction speed failed her slightly after being denied her strongest and only orgasm yet. She was however able to pull her fingers away from her trousers and sit up in a defensive position. Nothing, however could prepare her for who waited just outside the door frame.

Henry had burst into her room in a panic, breathless and eyes filled with worry "Evie! Are you alright?!" His voice hid his anxiety well, but it still seeped into his sentence like little trickles of water from a cracked well

Evie was absolutely horrified, regretting every decision that led her to this point, and cursed herself for being unable to think of anything to say. Luckily, he seemed to not have noticed her previous...state

"Y-yes...what are you doing here?" was the _brilliant_ response her brain could supply.

Henry had visibly relaxed after realizing she was perfectly safe and sound, a relieved sigh being released from his lungs.

"Jacob told me I could find you here, and asked If I would be able to convince you to join the festivities downstairs. I am unsure as to what gave him _that_ idea." He laughed warmly.

Evie chuckled as realistically as she could, and wished nothing more in that moment but for him to leave and not notice anything was out of the ordinary.

Henry scratched the back of his head, appearing somewhat exhausted and a little more content, but it did not last long. His eyebrows pinched together as he realized something.

"I apologize for my earlier outburst, but I was _certain_ I had heard groans coming from your room, thinking perhaps you were in trouble. You aren't ill are you Evie?"

A cold sweat dripped down her back and she fought back the traitorous shivers that crept up her spine. An awkward smile spread her lips and massive dread set in.

"No, no I can assure you everything is alright." the words felt forced on her tongue.

His expression didn't change, the deduction gears turning in his brain.

"...really? I could have swore I heard you mere seconds ago."

Evie shook her head furiously, subconsciously skittering further back on the bed, the state of undress she was in becoming painfully apparent.

Henry honed in on this fact quickly, hawk's eye not missing a thing, which was slightly unfavorable for the female assassin at the moment. He gripped his chin in thought, scanning her in a way that made her body tingle all over. A thought dawned on him just then, his entire form remaining frozen in place. Evie felt like screaming on the inside, every muscle rigid and painfully stiff with fear.

When the spell that enchanted him had passed, he moved cautiously towards her, his head lowering as his gaze turned upon the area where her hands were currently guarding. He knew. By God he knew.

Her stubbornness however, did not give in. "What are you doing?" She questioned as she continued to shift away from his impending approach..

He did not hear her, or if he did, he ignored her.

"Unless..." He whispered, more to himself then to Evie.

She was getting increasingly more upset, the initial embarrassment morphing into annoyance.

"Unless what? You're being very cryptic all of the sudden."

Without warning his hands came upon her ankles, the soft pads of his fingers barely brushing the skin where her joints connected. Evie was equally terrified and excited by the implications of that gesture. She couldn't handle his odd behaviour anymore.

"Henry, I-"

"Do you trust me?"

The female twin blinked several times, not grasping the meaning of his question.

"...What?"

He gripped her ankles slightly harder, dark amber peering into her Caspian blue.

"Do. You. Trust me?" His tone was gentle, similar to how one would address an injured child. She would have been offended had she not been captivated by this strange new side of him.

There was a long silence, his hidden message being conveyed and translated into a language she could understand. She felt a spike of anticipation wreak havoc on her stomach and already grated nerves. This had to be an illusion of some kind, the work of hypnotists and sorcery. But it wasn't, for nothing had felt more real in her life. The tension in the air was palpable, everything that happened after would hinge on her response. She chewed on the skin of her lips, and after finding the courage within herself, she nodded her consent.

"Tell me if you want me to stop, I'll understand completely." His tone was serious.

Had she been in a more confident state she would have confessed to him that that wasn't even a possibility.

The elusive Ghost of London went to work straight away, fingers sensually making their way up her body. He emitted a soothing aura with each stroke against her legs and thighs, calming her racing heartbeat and taming her conflicting thoughts within. She had never met anyone else with this same gift, the ability to sedate even the most tumultuous of souls without the need for drugs. It was intoxicating, like the opium dens that enslaved the rich with its promises of lethargy and eternal introspection. Henry was an addiction Evie wasn't sure she'd ever be able to satisfy.

His lips soon followed the paths of his hands, trailing along the fabric, eyelids closed in concentration. Her breath quickened, the erotic sight releasing new endorphins in her brain.

Once his mouth reached past her knee, he lightly gripped her hips and dragged her to the edge of the bed. She was startled, and he watched her curiously, seeing if she would end their engagement there. She said nothing.

After a moment's passing, he began thumbing the seam of her trousers, twirling the ties with his forefinger, asking permission with his patience.

She had a choice, this was what he was stressing with the deliberate slowness of his actions. She could choose to stop at any moment, and he would oblige. But she had to trust him, trust he would never do anything to hurt her.

She was hesitant, but not because her desires did not match his, in fact she most likely out ranked him in this instance. This was uncharted territory for her, a blind mission where she had no previous experience to draw from, she'd have to map it out relying only on instinct.

Cold air hit her skin as he withdrew his fingers from her trousers.

"Stop!" She grasped the retreating hands out of fear that they would disappear for good.

"Evie, are you absolutely sure-"

"Yes." She assured him in a way that left no room for argument.

His skepticism remained until slender and strong fingers pulled his wrists towards their previous location.

Henry was her compass into an unknown world, like he had been since she met him. He guided her through the belly of the seemingly untameable creature that was this dire city with ease and grace. Whose to say he wouldn't be a perfect choice to help her explore this aspect of human experience?

He gave a wry smile, satisfied with her response. The ties were already half undone, making his work easy as he gently slid them down her thighs, past her knees, below her ankles, and then finally off all together. Nerves no longer ate away at the female assassin, only anticipation as she watched his eyes take in the sight of her, mesmerized and hiding excitement. They wanted the same thing, meaning there was nothing for her to be frightened about anymore. Instead of doing what she expected-something she still wasn't quite sure of- Henry pulled her even further down on the bed, till her feet touched the floor. The material of her undershirt was bunched as he slid his warm hands up her torso, the scruff of his beard scraping against her stomach as he kissed it slowly. She groaned lightly, finally knowing what that felt like. He kissed lower, until his lips barely brushed the top of her underwear, nuzzling the fabric slightly. A strange sensation erupted in her stomach as he did that, an ache of a muscle she never knew she possessed.

"You know, Mr. Green, you have an awful habit of teasing that you absolutely _must_ kick." She remarked, bravery returning to her with each passing minute, along with her growing impatience.

The master assassin let out a breathy chuckle, shaking his head. " Patience, child. These things should never be rushed."

Henry kneeled on the floor, parting her thighs in each hand, massaging her muscles to ease the tension. Evie shot him a look of utter confusion. What exactly was he planning to do? Once he situated himself where he wanted to be, he dug his nails below the cotton that covered her most intimate part from the sides. Evie took a breath, straining to see what he was doing. The pads of his fingers rubbed against her inner thighs, his torturous game still not ending and Evie did not know how much restraint she had left. She sat up on her elbows, peering down at him and his slow ministrations.

Finally, with the measured ease of a practitioner, he pulled the cotton down, revealing her moist entrance to him. "Exquisite…" was his simple comment, the air of his speech blowing against her throbbing wet folds. She waited only a moment before she felt a roughened finger trail down her slit, unleashing a fire in her belly.

after repeating his route three times, he took hold of her thighs from underneath, jerking her forward until his lips hovered mere centimeters over her womanhood. Giving her one last look, he plunged his long tongue into her center. Evie closed her eyes and threw her head back, fighting down the urge to scream. God that felt divine. He lapped at her folds, twirling his tongue skillfully up and down her slit, stopping to pull at her labia with his lips. Evie fell back and clutched the sheets of the musty bed, hardly able to withstand the attack on her control. Her nerves felt like they were scalding, heating up her skin and dripping sweat through every pore. She didn't even know men could _do_ that.

Henry raised his head. "Do not be afraid to touch me, if you find yourself in need of holding onto something" His impish smirk made her shudder pleasantly.

He went back to work, this time turning his attention to her abandoned clit, sucking on it tenderly. Evie whimpered, hands threading through his thick black hair as she supported her weight with one elbow, drawing a knee up to give him even better access. He flickered over her tiny bundle of nerves, suckling it occasionally, as his hands moved upwards, toying with the fabric of her chemise. He applied hard, relentless pressure, creating patterns with his wet muscle, switching from a quick zigzag motion to long, lazy swipes. His hands managed to burrow underneath the white linen, finding her breasts and squeezing them playfully. She let out a low moan, hands retreating from his scalp, and instead urging on his hands and their ministrations.

"Henry-" Her words were cut off with a whimper as he picked up speed, mouth swallowing her engorged vulva, slurping her natural lubrication as if it was the sweet nectar of the fruits she saw him eat from time to time. He hummed into her aching pussy, the vibrations drawing high-pitched sounds from within her throat. She writhed around his face and sinful tongue, hardly able to take in the sight of the man she had been seeing in her most private of fantasies feast on her body like it was the only thing he had ever desired. The prickles of his beard scratched her sensitive flesh in a way that hurt so beautifully she could barely stand it. Her nipples were swollen with blood, his fingers pulling at them gently, teasing them till they were painfully sensitive. Her thighs quivered, a powerful wave building from somewhere deep within her, just waiting to erupt into something she was not quite sure of. Sensing that she was near, the master assassin lifted her pelvis upward, pushing his tongue deep inside her dripping entrance, stretching her as far as he could. She cried, the heat of his skilled organ was as hot and unbearable as the far away lands of his origin. He began thrusting, rubbing against the sensitive nodes he was able to reach and using her moans as a guide to find which ones _really_ brought her to the brink.

Evie was moaning, unable to keep her eyes open for a second longer as immense pleasure crawled up her body, filling her veins. He worked even harder, nuzzling into her pussy as he relentlessly urged her on, taking her to Nirvana.

"Oh God, Henry!" She exclaimed, finally letting her release take hold of her and transport her to a realm that had been only a concept till now. She saw white dance across her vision, body seizing all movement in those precious seconds, the room fading before her very eyes. It was as if she had discovered a secret sixth sense, a strong power that had been bound in some remote area of her being and Henry was the one who had unleashed it.

Henry.

The Ghost of London ceased his thrusting, licking up the precious juices of her release as he waited for her to return to the world of the living. Her limbs felt like jelly, her body collapsing on the bed as she tried to regain her breath, her pants the only sound in the room.

Henry gave one final languid lick to her center, understanding that any further stimulation would most likely be too painful for her to handle. Satisfied with his work, he released her thighs from his hold, admiring the red marks his palms streaked across the pale expanse of her skin. However, with the distraction gone, his senses started coming back to him, and he became increasingly regretful of essentially forcing himself on his much younger colleague.

Evie controlled her breathing to an even rate, and was able to gain control of her muscles. She sat up, and was surprised to see Henry standing near the door, his head low.

This was not good.

His fists were clenched so tightly they were shaking, and his posture signified regret. Evie couldn't breath.

He started quietly, eyebrows furrowed in disappointment, at what she wasn't sure. "Evie...I-"

"Don't you dare." She barked.

Henry looked up, utterly shocked. "Sorry?"

Evie pulled herself to the edge of the bed, swinging her legs over the bed, gaze furious "Don't you _dare_ say you regret this."

The master assassin turned away, looking at the floor. "That's just it isn't it? I don't regret it for a second. However, that doesn't mean it's right for us to be doing this." He declared, sounding every bit of self-loathing as he appeared, and Evie wouldn't stand for it.

He punched the wall hard, causing a slight dent in the robin's egg wallpaper. Evie was growing increasingly frustrated with this man. He decides he is going to give her a earth-shattering orgasm and _then_ realizes it was a mistake afterwards? This just reinforced her theory that men simply could not think for themselves, _that_ was the woman's job.

He didn't want to face her, cowardly facing the wall instead of the problems he had conjured in his own head. That was it, she needed to end this.

He wasn't prepared for the assault he received when he finally did muster up the courage to turn back around, but it wasn't words that greeted him, instead it was soft, supple lips that aggressively came upon his own, killing any argument he had within his throat.

"You…" Evie growled, hands gripping his neck and bringing him impossibly close.

He moaned, opening his mouth as she persisted that he give her entry.

"Irksome…" She slid her tongue against his, tasting herself. "Meddlesome…" She backed him into the wall. "Mr. Green." she pulled back, eyes alight with that passion that had drawn him to her in the first place.

Henry sighed, mouth tingling from the ferocity of the kiss. He gave a defeated smile, conceding to her in this fight "Yes, that would be me."

Evie's fingers went up to the sides of his face, locking eyes with him. "Like I said, you have this absolutely _horrible_ teasing habit that needs be ridding, and I would be more than happy to help you with it." Her tone was light, but the hidden meaning to her words were clear, he could not hide away from her now, not when they both wanted the same thing.

Henry let out a loud, tired chuckle that seemed to take all he had left. "I accept your offer." He answered after a moment. realizing it was his only option, and one he very much liked indeed.

Evie smiled coyly, pulling him by his wrists towards the bed. "Excellent, how about we start right now?"

 **To be Continued...**


End file.
